a call to the soldiers (the young, the innocent, and righteous)
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: The first thing he noticed when he woke up was how cold it was. The second was that he couldn't feel his body. And the third? He wasn't breathing.


**For the Houses Competition. Thanks so much to the mods for another fantastic year! This fic sort of ties in with a previous fic I wrote called 'leftovers', but you don't need to have read it to understand what's going on here. They're two separate stories, but can be linked. Title from Battle Scars by Paradise Fears**

**House: Ravenclaw**

**Subject: Charms**

**Category: Standard**

**Prompt: Waking up as a ghost**

**Word count: 1163**

* * *

He was cold. He was so, _so _cold. The chill permeated his entire body, sinking its claws deep into his skin and taking root in his very bones. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and folded into a crouch, trying to find some warmth in his own body heat, but it was as though it had all been sucked out of him. He tried blowing into his hands, but he didn't feel it.

In fact… He didn't feel anything, he realised with dawning horror. His entire body was completely numb, the only sensation he could actually detect was the ever-increasing cold. He straightened, blinking to clear the fog from his vision, only to come to a second realisation - it was an actual fog, as far as the eye could see. Panic began to steal through him, and it was then that he made the third realisation.

He wasn't breathing.

He put his hand to his chest, waiting to feel the heartbeat that, in the back of his mind, he already knew wasn't there. He couldn't see his breath, even though it was so cold that he should. And his pulse wasn't roaring in his ears, despite the deep fear and panic that had a hand around his throat.

_This has to be a dream, _he thought desperately, trying to rationalise it in his mind. It was the only explanation; he'd just fallen asleep and was having a horrible, horrible nightmare, and now he'd realised this, he would wake up. He had to be right. In fact, he thought he remembered it.

Yes, he'd fallen asleep, he was sure of it. There had been a lot of shouting and a lot of flashing lights, but he'd eventually managed to…

No.

He remembered now.

He hadn't fallen asleep at all. He'd just been trying to take a few pictures, and then, and then -

Colin Creevey had _died_.

* * *

He didn't know how he got here, but it looked like he was standing by the Black Lake. Colin had been wandering in a daze ever since he realised that he'd woken as a ghost, and he'd managed to wander to the edge of the fog. It was a bit thinner here, and he could just about make out the ripple of the lake, but he couldn't get to it. He'd tried, but the fog pushed him back each time. It was weird; it didn't feel like normal fog at all. It felt like hands pulling him and shoving him, forcing him to stay within the confines of whatever this place was.

So he just stood, right on the edge of Death, staring out at Life, unable to breach the gap. He used to love coming down to the lake when he was at school, always desperate to get a picture of the famed Giant Squid.

He'd never managed it. It was too late now.

He didn't know how long he'd been standing there when he felt another figure at his side. He turned, and was surprised to see a girl standing there, staring at the lake. She was older than him, though only by a year or two, and she was all pale and see-through. Colin frowned and looked down at his own body, noticing with a start that he was the same. Part of him wanted to cry; the other part just wondered whether ghosts actually could cry.

After a while, the girl turned to him. She had kind eyes, and her face seemed familiar, though Colin couldn't attach a name to it.

"Hello," she said. "I'm Lavender. Brown. Lavender Brown."

"Colin Creevey."

Her face fell. "Oh. I remember you. You were always following Harry around."

If he could, Colin would have blushed with embarrassment. "Only for my first couple of years," he muttered.

Lavender laughed, but she quickly turned serious again. "Aren't you a sixth year? You weren't supposed to be there at all."

"I'm only a year younger than you," Colin said, feeling anger rise in him. "I had just as much right as you did to defend Hogwarts."

Lavender didn't reply, but her expression became even more sad as she continued looking at him in something like pity. Colin couldn't stand it, and he moved to run away from her, only realising at the last minute that he would be alone again if he left.

"Sorry," he muttered, reluctantly turning back to her. He knew she was right, anyway; he shouldn't have been there, but neither should she. None of them should have.

"Me too." She sighed. "I suppose this is it, then."

"This is what?"

She looked at him with a hint of disbelief in her eyes. "You do know you're dead, right?"

Colin flinched, and she immediately looked guilty. "Sorry. Probably should have phrased that a little better."

"It's okay," he said. "And, yes, I did know."

"Well, then, this is it." She gestured at their surroundings. "Death. The afterlife. Whatever you want to call it."

Colin looked around him, at the impenetrable fog and the untouchable lake. His heart - if he even still had one - sank down into his shoes. "Oh."

"Oh," Lavender echoed.

"But… Hang on." Colin frowned, suddenly remembering something. "I thought you only became a ghost if you _chose _to become one. I didn't - I _wouldn't._"

That horrible, sad look was back on Lavender's face. "You didn't want to die, either," she said gently. Colin shook his head, still not understanding, and Lavender's lips pursed, as though in thought. "I didn't choose to become a ghost," she said eventually. "But I'm seventeen years old. I didn't want to die. I suppose I fought against it, without even knowing I was doing it, and here I am."

She turned to Colin, a small smile on her face. "Here _we _are."

Colin didn't reply. The last thing he remembered was a flash of green light in the corner of his eye; he didn't even know he'd died until he ended up here. How was he supposed to have fought against anything? It was true that he hadn't wanted to die - of course it was - but _no-one_ did, did they? Surely, if Lavender was right, everyone would end up here.

And yet… Colin thought he could see the sense in what Lavender had told him. He wished more than anything that he didn't have to be here for the rest of forever, but he supposed that the time for choosing had long since passed him by. He was confined, alone, with nothing but, well, _nothing _ahead of him.

He jumped as he felt a hand slip into his. It felt strange, almost like when he was alive, but colder, and less solid. He looked up at Lavender, and she smiled at him, more genuinely this time, and he felt a sort of phantom warmth in his chest. He didn't want to be dead, but, at the very least, he had someone by his side to help him through it.


End file.
